Late to the party, as usual: Laura’s random thoughts on the first 9 episodes of House of Cards

Yeah, I literally mean the first nine. Like, of season 1. The husband and I watched the first two together, and I started reading spoilers, and I prodded him into watching the third. And then there wasn’t any prodding for the fourth. We can’t really binge-watch because, you know, have to wait until the kid’s in bed, but just about every night for the past week or so, we’ve watched House of Cards. And I have thoughts. Because of course I do.

(Below are–probably–spoilers for the first nine episodes of House of Cards. Which, really, you probably already watch, right?)

So, really, the thing I like about this show is that I’m watching it with Scott and we’re both into it. And it’s refreshing to watch a show with him where we’re not snarking about it the entire time, or even half the time, or at all. We keep pausing to discuss, which is territory usually occupied by Doctor Who.

The opening music reminds me of the opening music for Samurai Champloo; I keep waiting for the beat to start, but it doesn’t. I think this is adding a certain atmosphere to the show, for me, that might not be what the creators intended, but it kinda works.

Of course the entire point of this show, for me, is Claire and Frank’s marriage. They’re a puzzle, in that they have rules, and I spend a lot of time watching what they do in order to figure out what those rules are. (Me and everyone else, I know. I am under no illusions regarding being original, here.)

Every long-term relationship has rules.

I don’t feel like I’m particularly good at navigating new people [1], so I like the comfort of knowing the people I’m with, and knowing that I’m known. Plus, the husband and I are coming up on year 24, here. So I adore depictions of long-term relationships. It’s a skill, I think, to make it seem like you’ve been with someone for basically your whole life, when you might have only met them a few days ago. [2]

I don’t really care about Peter Russo, but Christina, now … she’s interesting. I liked that she dumped him, I liked that she stuck with it … until she had an excuse to not. She could manage to avoid him, sure, but put him in her path … (parallels, parallels).

My father is from South Philly, and that is not his accent, y’all. Just saying.[3]

I dunno, I think I’m just going to watch Zoe for a while. I keep wanting her to be better at all this manipulative ambitious stuff, but I suppose part of the point of her is that she’s actively trying to get better at being manipulative and ambitious.

Doug, what is your deal?

It’s interesting to me how much more cynical I am than my husband …

1[back] Though as I get older I’m much more likely to sit back and, like, observe in order to figure things out rather than jumping to conclusions about what’s going on.

2[back]In a similar vein, my favorite episodes of series tend to be those episodes you just can’t do until the third or fourth season–like the episode of Friends where the girls lose the apartment to the boys, or that episode of Stargate with the time loop, or basically this entire season of Glee.)

3[back]My dad had this kind of “generic city” accent, usually … until we’d actually go back to Philly to visit my grandmother, and then it got very thick and very distinct. My grandmother … well, her accent stuck even after she moved away from Philadelphia. That was one of my favorite things about her, actually.

The Dreaded Bio

I read (you can check out my Goodreads if you want).

I write (I’ve been published in Cicada, On Spec, Strange Horizons, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, GigaNotoSaurus, Penumbra eMag, and Betwixt; the stuff that’s available online for reading or purchase is linked below).

I plan for the inevitable zombie apocalypse and welcome the coming of the gorilla revolution. Or the anarchist rabbits. Whichever happens first.